


The Urge to Fall

by apolesen



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Journey to Babel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolesen/pseuds/apolesen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Enterprise takes a number of ambassadors aboard to escort them to the conference planet Babel, Kirk is face with the family, conspiracy and the tug of fate.</p><p>A rebooting of the TOS episode "Journey to Babel", written for the operation80 challenge at LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Urge to Fall

The _Enterprise_ seemed a changed ship. It was never empty, but usually there was a certain scarceness to the corridors. The only blotches of colour would be red, blue and gold; the crew seldom left their quarters when out of uniform. Now, the disciplined silence had been exchanged to the buzz of conversation, and at times people in civilian clothes outnumbered those in uniforms. Still, to Kirk “civilian clothes” was almost a misnomer; it made him think of jeans and leather-jackets and sweaters which were slowly unwinding. By contrast, their guests were dressed in alien finery, some in long robes of unnamed cloth, others in what seemed like metal scale armour, and a few in very little. Even if the colour and conversation at first seemed joyful to him after almost two years on the _Enterprise_ , the tensions soon became obvious. There were certain delegates who would not speak to one another, and groupings seemed to be forming quickly.

‘You know, I think I heard one of the Aeolian delegates hiss at the Nausicaan ambassador the other day,’ McCoy while studying one of his boots. Then with a sigh he started working on the last button in his dress uniform. ‘Dress uniform – spit and polish,’ he muttered. ‘I think the replicator got this wrong. Feels like my neck’s in a sling…’

‘Stop whining, Bones,’ Kirk said and after looking over his hair once again he took out the medal he had been given at the same time as becoming captain. He still got a slightly giddy feeling when he felt it weigh on his chest.

‘You gonna give me a hand with this? I sort of blame you for having me dress up like a circus clown.’ The captain abandoned the mirror and came to help him.

‘It’s just like dressing up for prom, isn’t it?’ he said, hoping to lighten the mood. The doctor only snorted.

‘Yeah, just the same. But at prom you’d just have a snarky girl to keep happy – instead, we have over a hundred diplomatic delegates, one half is mad at the other and all of them touchier than a pile of raw antimatter over this Corridan question.' With the misreplicated button finally in place they exited his quarters. The brilliant colours of a close-by delegate’s dress caught his eye, but he thought she would have been prettier if it had not been for the snout.

‘Only one party left to pick up, and then we can relax,’ Kirk said and patted McCoy on the shoulder.

‘Yes, but that last party is the _Vulcans_ ,’ he muttered just moments before Spock fell into stride with them. Kirk glanced at him and felt that it had been a mistake, because the sight of his slim figure in the silk uniform was more breathtaking than any brightly dressed ambassador. When he looked away, McCoy caught his eye and cocked an eyebrow quizzically, but he just jerked his head minimally to one side to dismiss it, unwilling to communicate on the topic even through gestures.

'Everything in order on the bridge?' Kirk asked, trying to lighten the awkwardness he suddenly felt.

'Orbit holding – nothing to report,' Spock answered. 'There are some concerns among the delegates, but there have been no incidents whatsoever.'

'Good,' the captain said, grateful to have such a first officer. 'You know, we could spare you a few hours, you. The reception isn’t until twenty-hundred hours, and we’ll be in orbit around New Vulcan for another two hours. If you want to beam down and see your dad – have a look around the settlement…’ He fell silent; for a moment, he thought he had seen emotion rising to the surface and disrupting the Vulcan mask. It had seemed reminiscent to despair.

‘I appreciate the consideration, but I have no need of seeing the colony.’ The answer came out sounding flat, and Kirk realised he had hoped for emotion in his voice as well.

‘All right,’ he said and then paused in his strides. ‘Sorry, Spock.’ Spock did not heed the apology – perhaps it had been wrong to acknowledge that it could be a troublesome topic. Kirk wished he could tell, but found it hard. He seemed to spend as much time trying to read Spock as captaining the ship these days.

Thankfully, they were only a little way from the transporter room, and when they arrived, the honour guard was already present and Scotty, in dress-uniform jacket and kilt, was manning the controls.

‘Ah, Captain,’ he said, looking over the controls. ‘They report a sand-storm down on the surface, so the delegates will be completely wrapped up. Just so they don’t scare us.’

‘After the Bzziz Khaht, I'll never find anything in the transporter room scary,’ Kirk answered jovially. ‘No one had told me that they’d be reptiles… Ready for beam-up?’

‘They haven’t signaled yet,’ Scotty answered. ‘It’s all exciting, isn’t it? And any reason to wear me kilt. I left the _sgian dubh_ in my quarters, though.’ At Kirk's and McCoy's blank faces, he lit up, happy to explain ‘It’s a knife – to go in the sock. I thought the delegates might misinterpret it – not good for diplomacy, you know.’

‘Good thinking,’ Kirk said.

‘Thanks, cap’n. Ah, they’re signaling ready. On standby.’ He turned to Giotto, the security officer.

‘Positions, honour guard,’ he said, and they fell into position. ‘Ready, gentlemen?’ Glancing at his first officer and chief medical officer, he saw that McCoy was trying to make a Vulcan salute, as Spock was demonstrating.

‘Yeah,’ he said when he realised he had been addressed. ‘Not worth it – it hurts worse than the uniform.’ Kirk laughed, but when he looked at Spock, he did not seem to have found it remotely amusing. He guessed meeting other Vulcans must be hard for him – even those who had survived were reminders of those who had been lost – and he wished he could tell him to relax and possibly give him a friendly elbow-nudge, but knew it might have the opposite effect.

Bringing himself back to the situation, he turned to Scotty and said:

‘Energise.’ As the engineer worked the controls, the familiar transporter light filled the room, and when it receded, four shapes, all shrouded against the winds on the surface, stood on the transporter pad. At once they started working on removing the goggles and scarves which hid their faces. The first to remove the gear was a young woman, the second a man. The way they waited on the pad made him think they were aides of the ambassador. The slightly shorter of the remaining two Vulcans stepped off the pad as he removed the desert-gear, and the aides fell into line behind him. When the Vulcan uncovered his face, Kirk felt certain he had seen him before.

‘Captain Kirk,’ he said and raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. Then it struck him who this was.

‘Ambassador Sarek,’ Kirk said, bowing slightly. It struck him that this might have been the reason why Spock had not wanted to beam down to the colony, but he still wondered why he had not mentioned that his father was among the delegates. ‘Welcome aboard. You know my first officer, of course, and my chief medical officer Doctor McCoy, and Mr Scott, my chief engineer.’

‘We come to serve,’ Spock said and saluted him the Vulcan way. Sarek stopped in his stride, surveying him for a moment, but then moved on without as much as a word. He went onto greeting McCoy and Scotty, but Kirk had turned to Spock, whose eyes were averted and face stony. He was about to brush against his arm to get his attention, but Sarek spoke.

‘Captain – my aides, T’Rin and Sotak, and Ambassador Selek.’ The two young Vulcans saluted him and passed. The last Vulcan had lingered behind, but his goggles were already in hand and he was unwinding his head-scarf. As he pulled it from his shoulders, he turned to face him, watching him with doubly familiar eyes.

‘Jim – or, I should say, Captain,’ Spock said, a small smile creeping onto his face. ‘Your service honours us.’ Offering him the Vulcan salute and a gaze which seemed encoded with things he could not read, he moved on and stopped in front of his counter-part. ‘Mister Spock – I am pleased to see you.’ Such a courteous phrase sounded strange when said by a Vulcan voice, and Kirk thought he saw his first officer jerking back, as if the address was a touch he wanted to avoid. There was a moment of silence where they simply looked at each other, the same pair of eyes meeting. It was strange to see them together, because the differences seemed as many as the likenesses. Kirk was reminded of the time when he had found a photograph of his grandfather from when he was a young man; with difficulty, he had traced the familiar features onto the young face, but once he had found them, the man in the photo had gone from being an anonymous youth to his grandfather. Over two years ago, he had traced the young Spock’s face on the old one’s in the cave, and then the other way around when coming back to the _Enterprise_. Now all he saw was Spock, but split in two. He had not anticipated how disturbing it would be.

Spock broke the tension by answering the salute, but he did not say anything. The old man dipped his head at him and went to greet McCoy and Scotty. Kirk shot the Scotsman a warning look, and when the old ambassador turned his back he imitated a zipper over his lips. The captain nodded his approval; the last thing they needed was to have to explain temporal paradoxes.

‘You are very welcome aboard,’ he said again, addressing the Vulcan delegates. ‘I will have you shown to your quarters. When you’ve settled in, we’ll arrange a tour of the ship. Mr Spock can show you around.’ He noticed how Sarek’s face turned even more severe than it usually was, and Spock said:

‘With respect, sir, I have duties in the science labs which need to be seen to.’ Kirk looked from his first officer to the delegates; the only benevolent face among them belonged to the old ambassador, whom Sarek had called Selek.

‘I’d be happy to show you engineering,’ Scotty piped up, and for once Kirk thanked him quietly for his complete lack of tact.

‘Then Mr Scott will show you the ship,’ he said and maintained a trained face until the delegates had been shown to their quarters and he could escape McCoy’s questioning looks.

***

James Kirk was not one to be miserable at a party. In fact, this was a formal reception rather than a party, and he was not really miserable, whatever McCoy claimed he was. He was just contemplative, and possibly worried. He tried to pay attention to the tiny golden Ithenite who was praising the food-stuff he called “sugartots”, which Kirk was certain had nothing to do with sugar at all, but his gaze seemed constantly to be drawn to the other side of the room. When the Ithenite went to collect more sugartots, McCoy came up to him and said quietly:

‘What’s with you, Jim?’

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I just guess you’re right – there’s a lot of tension going on.’

‘Tension? I think you just put your finger on it,’ Bones snorted. ‘The amount of unresolved sexual tension you manage to generate could probably power a starship.’

‘Lay it off, Bones – you know what I mean,’ he sighed.

‘Damned right I do, as I’ve spent two years watching you ogling your First.’ The answer was so quiet he was not certain he was supposed to hear it. When he gave him a glare, McCoy raised his hands in an innocent gesture and said: ‘Just don’t think it’s good for you.’

‘Well, we need to make sure that during the next two weeks, the ambassadors don’t kill each other, so _our_ problems are pretty minor.’ The doctor snorted yet again as he helped himself to a drink and Kirk continued looking at the Vulcan delegates. One of the aides was speaking to the old Spock, while Sarek was conversing with the Nausicaan ambassador. He was standing with his back turned towards the elderly Vulcan, and Kirk suddenly got the feeling that it was a conscious decision. Spock had not arrived yet.

McCoy called him back to the real world.

‘So, how do you know this Selek?’

‘What?’ Kirk said, woken from his thoughts. ‘Who?’

‘Selek – the Vulcan ambassador,’ Bones clarified, watching him as if trying to detect a lie. ‘He seemed to know you. Was he among the ones who Spock went to fetch before... you know? He reminds me of someone...’

‘Oh, yes – yes, we’ve met before,’ he said, ignoring the other question, but suggested instead, ‘c’mon, let’s mingle,’ sipped his drink and moved into the crowd. McCoy moved after him, but stopped to converse one of the Bolian delegates. Kirk kept walking, surveying and nodding to the guests. They turned and greeted him when he passed, but when the Andorian delegates pressed their palms together in acknowledgement, he noticed that one of the blue-skinned aliens did not follow suit. As he looked him, who watched him a way Kirk could only call predatory, he felt a flush of arousal pass through him. Quickly looking away, the captain mirrored the Andorian greeting and passed on. _Didn’t know Andorians had pheromones like that,_ he thought, and then realised that he had was about to walk straight into the elderly Spock. He was about to apologise, but the familiar way he watched him, where the whole world seemed to be contained inside his gaze, silenced him.

‘Captain Kirk,’ he said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute. ‘I trust you are well.’

‘Yes – thank you,’ he answered awkwardly. They were silent for a moment. ‘So… how have you been? Keeping busy?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ the old Vulcan said, steepling his fingers; Kirk realised that even that mannerism was something this Spock and the younger one shared. Still, they seemed opposites, which proved even more obvious when he smiled softly at Kirk. ‘Organising a colony is no small task, and after such a tragedy… We must not only form a new home, but also a new identity – a new meaning.’

‘But you’re helping – that’s great,’ Kirk offered, even if it came out sounding forced.

‘I prefer to stay in the background, but I do what I can.’

‘So it’s Selek now?’ he asked, sipping his drink. The Vulcan gave a minute nod.

‘It was only logical to take a new name, considering the circumstances,’ he explained and looked around the room, as if looking for someone. Kirk assumed he was looking for his younger counterpart. Suddenly it struck him that perhaps this was strange for him, but it must be much worse for Spock; perhaps that was the reason why he had not shown up yet.

‘How does it feel, being back on the _Enterprise_?’ The ambassador once again smiled slightly.

‘Remarkable. I have not set foot on this vessel in well over a hundred years.’ Curiosity stirred in Kirk.

‘You must know everything,’ he said. ‘What happens to the ship – to us.’ Spock raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘I mean, you must know what’ll happen to us, or at least what happened to us where _you_ are from. Who gets who, what we go onto doing – how we die.’ For a moment they achieved eye-contact. ‘I can’t help wondering who made it the longest. Do you know?’

Spock turned his eyes away.

‘I will not speak of such things,’ he said seriously. ‘We should not discuss your future – or my past. I must not intervene.’ Then he fell silent and seemed to think. ‘However, I wish to be of help.’ Spock moved, and for a short, vain moment, Kirk thought the old man was about to kiss him. Instead, he leaned in and whispered in his ear. ‘Pay attention to Sarek. For his sake.’

As he drew away, Kirk started to ask for an explanation when a flustered ensign elbowed himself through the crowd.

‘Captain,’ he said breathlessly when he reached him. ‘Lieutenant Uhura on the intercom, sir…’

‘Sure, thanks,’ he said and with a nod to the ambassador he followed the ensign. They went into a small room adjacent to the receptions room, and he approached the intercom. ‘Yes, Uhura?’

‘Sir, I just picked up a communication,’ Uhura said over the low static. ‘Nothing legible, just a few symbols, so I couldn’t decipher it, but it was very strong, as if it was coming from very close.’ Kirk bit his lip; that sounded strange.

‘Keep monitoring, Lieutenant,’ he instructed her. ‘Report anything out of the ordinary.’

'Is the party with the delegates keeping you all busy?’ she said, her voice both mocking and affectionate.

'It's not a party if you're not involved. All we have here is a bunch of drunk ambassadors and a sex-starved crew,' Kirk said, and thought he heard the ensign’s eyes grow at that unseemly statement from his commander. ‘Just keep monitoring, Lieutenant.’

‘Yessir,’ she said and closed the link. The captain nodded at the ensign and entered the throng of people again. Now he spotted his first officer; to his surprise, he saw that he was standing with the Vulcan delegates and McCoy. When he came closer, he noticed that the doctor was talking to Selek (as Kirk had to remind himself Spock should be called). Sarek seemed to be listening to McCoy, but when Kirk came to join the circle, he noticed that it seemed like he was not heeding the comments from either Spock. There seemed to be a coldness between his first officer and his father, which was mirrored with the older Vulcan. He was certain it had not been there the first time he had met Sarek.

‘Captain, come join us,' McCoy said as he approached. 'Ambassador Selek’s been telling us about the new Vulcan colony.’ Kirk gave the elder Spock an inquiring look.

‘The remaining Vulcans are not the diverse society we used to be,’ he explained. ‘Certain castes have been completely eradicated, which has been a horrible loss of culture, as well as that of lives. The survivors are almost exclusively from settlements close to the big space-ports, and both the division of sex and age is skewed – there is a majority of female survivors, and there is a majority of children. One of the first actions the Vulcan high council sought aid from the Federation for was the establishment of orphanages.’

‘If half the population is orphans…’ Kirk started saying, the idea chilling him to the bone. By some definitions of the word, he had been an orphan, but this was unimaginable compared to the sheltered relation to the death of his father he had had.

’51.3 percent of the population on New Vulcan is under the age of twenty,’ Sarek said curtly. ‘Of them, 85.8 percent have lost both their parents. The number of children who were saved from Vulcan with both their parents is negligible.’

‘The main task is still to attempt to reunite families,’ the other ambassador said, and Kirk thought he saw a shadow pass across his face. The Vulcans were now a rootless race, but Selek had no context at all. It made Kirk wonder whether the old man had had a family back in the future, possibly some better half he had left behind, but ever since their first encounter, he had seemed like an entity onto himself, unnaturally self-contained, as if something was missing from him. There was little doubt that he was alone.

‘Didn’t the Federation get onto that straight away?’ McCoy asked, seemingly fascinated by the topic from a sociopsychological point of view rather than a personal, as Kirk.

‘Yes, but many records were lost – only certain important parts of it had been saved on data-bases off Vulcan. No one ever imagined this kind of disaster would happen, especially with so little warning,’ the old Spock said. ‘We are reduced to techniques relying completely of people's own knowledge. It is a slow process, but this far, several children previously thought to be orphans have been found not to be so.’

‘Do you ever end up with situations where several parents are trying to claim one child?’

‘Vulcans do not lie, Captain,’ the Spock at his side said. When Kirk looked at him, as if about to remind him of times where he had more or less lied, he said hurriedly: ‘And were any Vulcan to attempt such a feat, he would easily be proved wrong by a mindmeld.’

‘There were several such cases in the first few months after the destruction of Vulcan, but when most adult Vulcans have lost their children, there is little point fighting about it,’ his elder counterpart added. ‘There is a scheme of foster-parents, which will hopefully be beneficent to not only the participants in it but the community as a whole.’

‘That’s frankly brilliant,’ McCoy said approvingly. ‘Obviously what these kids need is some kind of stability…’

‘Indeed, they have lost everything, and at such an early age,’ he answered morosely, in a way which was distinctly un-Vulcan. ‘No parents, no homes, no belongings, no security. It is in times such as these when it is crucial that we do not lose track of our civilisation. It is important that the orphans who we cannot reunite with a relative or give to a foster-parent do not feel like flotsam and jetsam. It can be alleviated so easily, not only by them being cared for well, but by instilling in them a sense of being needed.’ He paused to sip his drink, and when he continued to speak, Kirk thought he smiled. ‘The solution, I must say, is somewhat ingenious. A group of children, as small as we can possibly manage, are given a _sehlat_ to care for. They are rare now, but it is certainly putting them to better use than keeping them for show.’

‘What’s a _sehlat_?’ McCoy asked, while Kirk was racking his brains to remember if it was something which had come up in the xenozoology course he had taken early on at the Academy. Meanwhile, the three Vulcans seemed to exchange looks, Sarek disapproving, the elder Spock amused, the younger uncomfortable.

‘I believe you have a comprehensive description of it, Mister Spock,’ the oldest Vulcan said finally, his smile lingering. Spock shifted from one foot to the others, cleared his throat and said:

‘My mother used to claim that my pet _sehlat_ was most reminiscent of a… fat teddy bear.’ McCoy made a sound like he was choking, and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as if to keep himself from spitting out his drink.

‘A… teddy bear?’ he repeated when he had recovered, and Kirk thought he had never seen his friend so happy. ‘You had a _teddy bear_?’

‘A _sehlat_ is a live animal, doctor,’ Sarek pointed out, cutting through the mirth McCoy’s laughter had brought. ‘Also, it has six-inch fangs. It is quite different from a Terran teddy bear.’ The doctor nodded, keeping silent as if afraid to cause more offense. Kirk was just about to ask about the breeding of _sehlats_ , when a voice interrupted him.

‘Well, if it isn’t the Vulcans?’

One of the qualities which made Kirk such a good captain was an ability of almost smelling trouble. If it was indeed a real smell, he was able to feel the reek of it now. Approaching them was the Tellerite delegates, the ambassador in the middle like a pig-nosed gang-leader.

‘How will you vote?’ the ambassador asked. It was not until then Kirk realised that the entire room had fallen silent, and all eyes were on Sarek and his fellow ambassador, waiting for an answer.

‘This is not the council chamber at Babel,’ Sarek said at last.

‘I _asked_ you, Sarek of Vulcan, how do you vote on the admission of the Corridan planets?’ It was hard to tell whether the name or the mention of his home planet was more contemptuous. Now, the ambassador kept silent, and glancing at his colleague, the older Spock said:

‘The Vulcans favour admission.’ The Tellerite gave up a shout of anger and surprise.

‘ _Favour_? Why?’

‘Under Federation law, the Corridan planets could be protected,’ Sarek answered, his voice colder even than before. ‘They are planets exceedingly rich in dilithium.’

‘Why do they need protection?’ the Tellerite pressed on. Kirk stepped forward.

‘Ambassador Sarek is right – this isn’t the council chamber at Babel, and this discussion…’

‘I want my answer,’ the ambassador snorted.

‘There have been illegal mining operations, Ambassador Gav,’ Selek said calmly. Gav’s piglike face distorted in rage.

‘Are you calling me a thief?’ he extorted and spat at him. A pearl of spit landed on Spock’s robes, and before it had time to sink into the fabric, he flicked it away, the look in his eyes truly terrifying. Before anyone had time to step in and stop him, the Tellerite had started speaking again. ‘The Vulcans are nothing but the intellectual puppets of the Federation – you’re both just catamites of the high council, you do their bidding whatever they ask. Well, if you value _logic_ , then watch your step, both of you. There is no reason why the Vulcans, who are so few, should have a delegation as big as any of ours.’ With a final contemptuous word in Tellerite, he turned and the entire delegation left with him. Damning himself for his own slowness, Kirk turned to Sarek.

‘Ambassador, I’m certain Ambassador Gav did not mean anything he said, but if he causes further disturbance, please let me know. Such behaviour is unacceptable.’

‘Tellerites do not argue for a reason, Captain. They merely argue,’ Sarek answered, but his tone was far too emotionless not to hide something. ‘He is not a man of action.’

Then he nodded and moved on to speak to the Andorian ambassador, and the elder Spock excused himself and left the room completely. Kirk sighed and ran a hand through his hair as McCoy and Spock fell into his step.

‘What is your plan for Ambassador Gav, sir?’ Spock asked.

‘At the moment, my plan is to get something with alcohol in it, and after that I’m going to go tell him to behave,’ Kirk said. ‘Can’t be done without booze. This is why I love diplomacy,’ he added sarcastically and chose the largest glass from the buffet table, ignoring that it was green and seemed to have something which looked like sea-weed in the bottom of the glass.

***

When the reception was over, Kirk only stopped to change into his normal uniform before going to the bridge. After the excitement of the reception and the disappointment of the green drink turning out to be almost undrinkable, the peace and quiet of the bridge was welcome.

‘Anything new?’ he asked as he sat down.

‘Yes, sir,’ Chekov said. ‘Sensors are picking up an unidentified wessel pacing us.’

‘Since when?’ Kirk demanded.

‘Only a few minutes, keptin,’ he answered. ‘Lieutenant Uhura was about to contact you.’

‘Very well,’ the captain said with a sigh. ‘Go to yellow alert, but don’t alarm the passengers. What more do you have on it?’

‘It appears to be a scout ship, considering the size, but the configuration is unfamiliar,’ Spock said. Kirk turned around his chair and watched him, attempting to keep his thoughts entirely on the problem at hand, but he could not pretend that laying eyes on Spock calmed him. ‘It is just outside phaser range, and at the extreme limit of sensors. At present I am unable to give any more information.’

‘All right. Is she answering to a hail, Uhura?’ The communications officer shook her head.

‘I’ve tried all frequencies – even hooked in the universal translator. There’s still no response, sir.’

‘Keep trying,’ Kirk told her. ‘Spock, check for any authorised ships.’

‘Already done, sir. Starfleet reports no other authorised vessel in this quadrant.’ The only acknowledgement Kirk could let himself have was a smile, but Spock’s way of performing his orders before he had given them made something warm flare in his chest. If they were this in tune now, perhaps he would start open up to him soon.

‘Care to guess what she is, then?’ Spock chocked an eyebrow.

‘Guess, Captain?’ he said, as if he did not know the word. ‘It is not in my nature. I will need more data to make an estimate.’ Kirk smiled at him again, and he thought he saw something stirring under Spock’s Vulcan mask, and as he saw the emotion form and hover under the surface, he issued an order, without looking away.

‘Mister Chekov, plot course to intercept that vessel.’ He turned around the chair to see the viewscreen. ‘I want to see what she looks like up close.’ Chekov’s hands danced over the console, and barely a moment later, he reported:

‘Wessel changing course, keptin.’

‘Phasers at the ready!’ Something resembling a speck of light rather than a ship was visible n the viewscreen for a moment, and the beams of the phasers missed it with a considerable margin. The bridge was silent and tense as the dart disappeared, until Spock spoke.

‘Interesting – the ship was travelling at approximately warp ten.’ Kirk turned around again, and after exchanging glances which verified that he had not uncharacteristically lied, he turned around and ordered them back onto the original course.

‘The intruder changed course immediately after we did – she’s paralleling us again,’ Chekov reported.

‘So, we have a shadow,’ Kirk said, mirroring the navigator’s sigh. ‘Not only that – she’s faster, more manoeuvrable and unidentified.’ Once again, he turned to his first officer. ‘Mister Spock, full analysis of sensor readings. I want to know everything you can tell me.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Spock said and set to work. It was not until then Kirk remembered the strange way he had not spoken to Sarek before, and he wished that he had asked him about it before they had ended up with this on their hands.

***

The issue of fathers seemed to haunt Kirk for the rest of the evening. His own father had been defined completely by his absence, and through it he had become an even greater man than he could have been in life. His mother had taught Kirk to mourn him, but all he had grieved for was the image she gave to him. Of course he had wondered what kind of person he would had been if his father had not died, but it had been nothing but abstract thoughts until about two years ago. Now, there was someone on board who knew how he had been in a reality where that had been the case, and Kirk did not think that the Vulcan now called Selek would need much prompting to speak. In a way, he knew so very little of this older version of Spock; just like with his first officer, he did not know how he worked. Still, he remembered the way his mind had enveloped around his during the meld at Delta Vega, and it had been as if he had opened himself up completely to him. The few times he had melded with the Spock who was his peer, it had been in the line of duty, and he had been able to feel Spock’s shields around him when their minds were drawn together. Just the fact that the old Vulcan had been so quick to suggest a meld when they had just met made him think that their minds had been well-acquainted. He had no ideas of what his relationship to the other version of him was; he had hopes, but possibly they were vain. But if that was true, what he wanted would not be as unreasonable as it had seemed these past years.

He wondered how it was possible to build a life without anything to lean against. He had never done that – there had always been constants, even if they had often been within himself. He thought of the Vulcans, who had lost their home, and Selek, who had lost his entire universe (it was possible, though, that he had nothing to tie himself to it – Kirk had reflected on the fact that creating a black hole to stop a star from going nova was a veritable suicide mission). He tried to imagine a race where almost half were orphaned children. What kind of trauma must those children go through? What kind of society would it turn into, if so many had known such all-encompassing pain? Perhaps a stronger community than had ever been seen – possibly a conglomeration of fears and griefs. When he had been a child, so many had pitied him, and he had been in trouble time and time again, but what he had been through was nothing in comparison to the Vulcan children who had not been swallowed up into nothingness.

When his shift the next day ended, instead of going to his quarters he went searching for Selek. He needed to make him talk – surely he must be able to. Thinking that the rec rooms which had been set aside for the use of the delegates would be a good place to start, he went there. As he entered, he laid eyes on the man he was looking for at once, but he was not alone. He was standing beside Sarek, and facing them, with his back against Kirk, was Gav, the Tellerite ambassador. Kirk could make out their voices, but not the words, but there was aggression in the Tellerite’s tone. The captain had started to approach them, wary of the situation, when Gav suddenly pounced against Sarek. Kirk rushed forward at the same time as Spock reached out and pushed the attacker away. The action was not overly violent, but there was something in the way he had stepped forth, half-shielding Sarek, and the way his eyes shone.

‘May I suggest that you return to your quarters, ambassador? For your own sake,’ he said coldly.

‘Do not dare to _suggest_ to me!’ Gav screeched.

‘Gentlemen!’ Kirk bellowed. The Tellerite and the Vulcans looked up at him, obviously startled. Now when they were obviously listening to him, he continued in a calmer tone. ‘Whatever arguments you have between yourselves is your business, but my business is running this ship. As long as I am in command, there will be order. Is that understood?’

‘Of course, Captain,’ the elder of the Vulcans said, his anger abated and replaced with graciousness.

‘Understood,’ Gav said gruffly and then turned to the other ambassadors. ‘You will pay for your slander, and I want none of your advice, Vulcan.’ With those words he left, and as soon as the doors had closed and the conversations around them had been resumed, the old Spock turned to Kirk.

‘Captain…’

‘May I speak to you, Ambassador Selek?’ he interrupted him, and, leaving Sarek behind, they went aside. Before the Vulcan had time to speak, Kirk said: ‘I thought I could trust you, but now you’re causing trouble on my ship. What’s your game?’

‘My business is not with the Tellerite, Jim,’ Spock said quietly. ‘I merely came here in search for the Andorian ambassador, with whom I had an issue I needed to discuss. My meeting with ambassador Gav and Sarek was accidental.’

‘Still, that could have become nasty,’ Kirk interjected.

‘I apologise sincerely,’ the Vulcan said, dipping his head. ‘I need to find Ambassador Shras – if you would excuse me, Captain.’

‘Fine,’ the captain said and waved him off. He started moving away, but then turned around.

‘Please be careful,’ he said, and before he had time to ask what he meant, he left.

***

The door-bell chimed just as Kirk came out of the shower. It had seemed like the only way to calm own after his frustration at the elder Spock and his constant implications that something was about to happen. Shrugging on the wrap-around shirt (which had almost seemed to him to be a half-civilian garment) and putting on his uniform trousers he pressed the button to open the door. It was not at all who he had assumed it would be.

'Ambassador Sarek,' he said when he spotted the stern Vulcan.

'Captain – may I enter?' he asked, not flinching even if his host was still tying his shirt closed.

'Sure – that's what an opened door means,' Kirk said, heading for the working-area. 'How can I help you, Ambassador?'

'I believed you might want some answers,' he simply said. The captain sighed; it had been that obvious, then.

'Well...' He shifted where he had sat down on the desk, then stood up and started pacing. 'Ambassador, I must admit that I am surprised to find that one of the delegates we are conveying to the conference is ignoring my first officer.' It seemed like something shifted in Sarek's perfectly schooled face.

'I thought that would be the topic you wished to discuss,' he said. 'Am I to assume that you are well acquainted with my son?'

'Yes,' Kirk said, not answering ”not as well as I would want”. It seemed far too hard to explain to a Vulcan, even one who had been married to a human, that that logical shell was hard to crack, and however much he tried, however well he thought he could read him, he could not possibly understand him.

'He is a good first officer?'

'He's the best.'

'That means he may have made the right choice,' Sarek said, joining his hands together much like Spock sometimes did, but without steepling his fingers.

'What do you mean?' Kirk asked, but he thought he knew that the issue was.

'I had assumed my son would aid in the establishment of the Vulcan colony,' Sarek explained, his voice as level as before. 'That was not his choice.'

'Does that mean you've not spoken since...?' He moved in head in the Vulcan equivalent of a nod. 'But... _why_?' Throwing caution to the winds, Kirk pressed on. 'Sir, your son is half-human – he needs emotional support...'

'That is not the Vulcan way,' Sarek said, his face stoney.

'But he's not fully Vulcan.'

'Also, I would assume that you would give him such things,' the ambassador pointed out, and Kirk froze, wondering if he had misinterpreted – overinterpreted – his relationship with his first officer. Sarek rose, but where Kirk had thought to find anger in his eyes, he saw earnesty. 'Do not think me a fool, Captain Kirk. I know the real identity of Ambassador Selek.'

A beat, then:

'Oh.' Kirk paused again before asking: 'How?'

'He told me – he even allowed me to meld with him, to show that it was true,' he explained. 'You must have noticed what a wildly emotional creature the man who calls himself Selek is.' Kirk nodded slowly; the elder Spock's emotional frankness still surprised him. 'I know what my son will become, and I know why.'

'Why?' he asked.

'Because of you, Captain,' he said, and now disappointment seemed to pierce his voice. 'Through him, I have learnt that the person who will deprive my son of the serenity of logic is you.'

'I don't understand...' Kirk started; he could not see how he would be able to have such influence on Spock, how he would be able to come so close to him that he could influence him like that. Unless he had been right in his assumption – unless it was like it seemed... 'He's your son – why can't you be happy for him?'

'Happiness is an emotion,' Sarek said. 'Emotion only brings strife in its wake. It... concerns me that my son must endure any such thing.'  
'Spock – the older one – seemed concerned for you,' Kirk pointed out, and suddenly his mind started working through what he had seen and heard. He remembered the way Selek had stepped between Gav and Sarek, as if to protect him, and it suddenly struck him – perhaps Sarek did not see his son, but Selek saw his father. He had even warned Kirk that something was about to happen, and then there was the Tellerite ambassador, who had been threatening them even before the incident just now... There must be something Gav was planning, something which had happened in the old Spock's universe as well. He remembered how he had asked about how people died, and he had seen such grief in the old Vulcan's face. Perhaps there would be violence – perhaps something would happen to Sarek which would cost him his life.

The communicator beeped, and Kirk almost threw himself at it.

'Kirk here.'

'Lieutenant Josephs, security, sir,' a voice over the intercom said. 'I'm in section 4B, deck eleven. I just found one of the Tellerites – dead. I think it might be the ambassador himself.' He felt himself going cold, and heard Sarek shift.

'Seal the corridor, Lieutenant, and call Mister Spock and Doctor McCoy down there.' He was just about to close the link, but then said: 'Send up a security guard to my quarters to escort Ambassador Sarek.'

'Aye, sir,' Joseph said, and the link was closed.

'Captain?' Sarek said, standing up.

'You're not safe – there's a killer on the loose,' Kirk said. 'Wait until they come to get you.' With those words, he left his quarters.

***

'Well?' Kirk said as he came hurrying down the corridor. McCoy was on his knees by the prostrate shape of a Tellerite.

'He's dead, all right,' the doctor said, moving the head from side to side. It seemed far too loose.

'It is Ambassador Gav, sir,' Spock, who was standing at the side of the corpse. The captain looked at him, and for a moment he thought of him as a son who had not spoken to his widowed father for two years, before seeing his first officer and (he liked to think) friend.

'Good. What did he die of? And when?'

'He hasn't been dead for more than ten minutes. Cause of death - broken neck,' McCoy sighed. 'By an expert, at that.' When Kirk frowned, he explained: 'It seems like the killer knew just where to apply pressure to make the neck snap.'

'Who aboard would have such knowledge?' he asked, turning to Spock. He seemed to hesitate, then said:

'Vulcans.'

'What?' McCoy got to his feet, and pointing at the dead man said: 'Where's the logic in that?'

'There is a technique called _tel-shaya_ ,' Spock explained, not letting himself be swayed by the doctor's outburst. 'It was seen as a merciful method of execution in ancient times.'

'Well I don't know about mercy, but it was quick and clean, at least,' Bones said. 'So, Vulcans. Who did it?'

Kirk bit his lip. It seemed far too clear to him now.

'I broke up a fight between Gav and the Vulcan ambassadors not an hour ago,' he said. 'And you saw how he taunted them earlier on..'

'Sarek or Selek, then,' McCoy said.

'It's not Sarek.' It seemed physically painful to say it. Bones gave him a questioning look. 'Sarek came to talk to me about fifteen minutes ago. He has an alibi.'

'Then, logically, it is Ambassador Selek,' Spock said. Kirk turned to him.

'It makes him the most likely suspect,' he said. _It makes you the most likely suspect._ Spock nodded. 'Do you think he'd be capable of it?'

'If the ambassador had a logical reason, he would be able to kill – well and efficiently,' he said, and it chilled Kirk that he had just assessed his own ability to kill. He had himself seen Spock murderous, and he had seen the similar flame of rage light in the old Vulcan's eyes when the Tellerite had taunted them, but that was not what had happened here.

'I don't know whether he could,' Kirk said. 'He strikes me as someone... far too kind for this.' Had the Tellerite been ripped to shreds, he might not have said that, but this was far too clean and logical for Selek. He looked Spock in the eyes, as if to say that he thought that extended to him, and for a fraction of time, it seemed as if they were in harmony.

'We should still go talk to him,' McCoy said, interrupting them.

'Sure – of course we will,' Kirk said and gave himself a mental shake. 'Let's go, instead of standing around here all day.'

None of them objected, but fell into step with him, seemingly glad to leave the crime scene behind. Without speaking they went to where the Vulcans had been quartered. There was no answer at Selek's door, but when they chimed the other Vulcans' cabins, they found that one of the aides, the young woman, was in.

'I do not believe Ambassador Selek has been in his quarters for some time,' she offered when they asked. 'He keeps to himself, but he mentioned that there was someone he had to find.' Then glancing down the corridor, as if not wanting to be heard, she said: 'I noticed a security guard escorting Ambassador Sarek to his quarters. Has something happened?' After exchanged looks, McCoy said:

'There's been a murder, miss.'

'I had expected something of such a kind,' she said with a nod. 'Most unfortunate.' She seemed about to say something else, but was interrupted by a voice from the corridor.

'Captain?' The officers turned around and spotted the old Spock, looking somewhat flustered under his calm mask. 'I assume you are looking for Ambassador Sarek.'

'We actually came to see you,' Kirk said, and was surprised to see a quizzical eyebrow rise.

'Let us speak somewhere a little more secluded,' he said, glancing at the aide, and made for the door to his quarters. He stood in the middle of the room as they came inside, and when the door had closed, he asked: 'What is the situation?'

'How has it come to your attention that there is a... situation?' the younger half-Vulcan said. For a moment, the old man looked amused, as if he recognised something in his young counterpart.

'It is self-evident – the three highest ranking officers of a ship do not come to visit a passenger merely out of courtesy,' he then noted. Kirk sighed and stepped forward.

'Yes, you're right. There's a situation. Where have you been the last hour?' At once, his jaw seemed to set itself more tightly and something guarded entered his face.

'The observation deck,' he answered finally.

'Alone?'

'Yes,' he said, half-turning from them. 'Something has befallen Ambassador Gav, has it not?' McCoy frowned at the statement and Kirk bit his lip.

'Yes – he was found dead not twenty minutes ago,' he explained.

'He had been killed by something Spock described as _tel-shaya_ ,' McCoy supplied. The old Vulcan looked at them, and said, as if unsurprised:

'Indeed.'

'Ambassador, you must understand how important it is for us to get to know what you've been doing for the past hour,' Kirk pressed.

'On circumstantial evidence alone, you are the most likely suspect,' the young Spock said.

'Yes, of course,' the elder said, looking down in the floor and then going to lean slightly against the desk, as if fatigued. 'I was on the observation deck, as I mentioned – I needed peace and quiet to meditate. Ever since I got onboard, I have been looking for someone. It is important.' He looked up and met Kirk's eyes. 'Jim, you must understand. The things I must avert...'

Then suddenly he gave a hiss and slid down the desk, onto his knees. McCoy snapped into action and rushed forward, pushing Kirk out of the way. Also Spock moved and Kirk felt his hand close around his arm, but whether to comfort him or to hold him back he could not tell.

'What's happening?' he asked, half to Spock beside him and half to McCoy, who was busy with his tricorder beside the slumped Vulcan.

'It's hard to tell with Vulcan biology – and I'll be damned if there's not something strange with his physiology overall – but I think it's something to do with his cardiovascular system,' he answered. There was a strange sound, which it took Kirk a moment to identify as laughing. The old Vulcan was chuckling.

'Such an… unexpected turn of events,' he said, even as he gasped with pain. 'I should have known better.'

'It's not damned funny,' McCoy said, looking through his back. Then he turned to the others and said: 'If you want to be useful instead of just standing around staring, call medical.' Kirk rushed to the intercom and did as he was told. When he turned around, the young Spock was still watching him intently.

***

Over an hour later, McCoy sighed and went to where Kirk and Spock were waiting in a corner of the ward.

'M'Benga had damned good timing to go on family leave, didn't he?' he muttered.

'Can you help him?' Kirk asked, nodding towards the old Vulcan, whom they had changed into a sickbay overall and put to bed.

'Well, according to my instruments, our chief suspect has a malfunction in one of the heart-valves. I'm not certain what to do about it. From what he's told me, he's been taking benjisidrine, but that isn't enough anymore.'

'Cryogenic open-heart surgery seems as the most logical alternative,' Spock said, and there came an answer his older counterpart.

'I agree – he is right.' Kirk turned to McCoy.

'Well, Bones – can you do what they suggest?'

'I'm happy someone asks me,' he said with an exasperated sigh. 'It's complicated stuff – it's hard on a human, but on a Vulcan... Also, we'd need a lot of blood.'

'Doctor?' Nurse Chapel approached them and presented McCoy with a PADD. 'I checked the blood-banks, and we don't have enough Vulcan blood or plasma even to start such a procedure. We used all the supplies on Mister Spock after the incident on Neural, and we haven't passed any space-stations to restock...'

'Very well,' McCoy sighed and gave back the PADD to her. 'Even Vulcan blood is rare in this day and age.' Then, approaching the bed, he asked the patient: 'But you're T negative?' The old Vulcan nodded.

'I am T negative, and my father as well,' Spock said. An almost mad grin spread over McCoy's face.

'Two donors – in that case we could do it.' As he turned to Nurse Chapel and instructed her to have both Spock and the ambassador report to the lab, Kirk approached the bed. Selek looked quite pale and weak where he lay, but he still smiled at him. The human bit his lip, uncertain under such a gaze, which he would almost label loving.

'It has happened before,' the old Vulcan said, as if it would calm him. 'I am afraid I lied earlier – when Ambassador Gav was murdered, I was quite incapacitated.' After a moment of silence, he answered:

'I believe you.' The smile was seen again, and Spock reached out and brushed their fingers together for an instant. It made a shiver go through Kirk, but the old man pulled back his hand far too quickly, looking troubled.

'Would you do me a favour, Jim?' he asked quietly, the weakness reaching his voice.

'Of course.'

'I had a locket, on a chain - I believe Nurse Chapel took it along with my clothes...'

'I'll see you get it back,' he said and was just about to draw back when his hand clasped around his wrist. The touch was strangely like that of the young Spock, when he had taken hold of him earlier on.

'It is all I have – of where I came from,' he explained, but he thought he heard _you_ instead.

'Sure,' he said, and resisting the urge to touch him again, he left to speak to Chapel.

***

Tension spread quickly on a starship, even one as large as the _Enterprise_. Therefore the curious silence on the bridge was not altogether surprising, but it only added to Kirk's overall uneasiness. After some half hour of silence, he finally rose and went over to the science station.

'Spock?'

'I am getting readings of trititanium from the intruder ship's hull,' the Vulcan reported, not looking up from his instruments.

'I'm sorry about Selek,' Kirk offered.

'Yes, it is unfortunate,' he only said, his voice monotone. 'It could adversely affect our mission.'

'Spock, you might be seeing yourself dying,' he said, coming closer so that no one would hear. 'Doesn't that upset you? Aren't you worried?'

'Worry is a human emotion,' Spock said, looking up now. 'I accept what has happened.' Kirk was about to point that that he _had_ human emotions, and perhaps he should accept them as his own, but he only turned back to his console. 'The hull has a remarkably high density... The vessel is manned, but I am unable to get any readings of the number of crew.' He paused, then said: 'If something is disturbing, then it is Gav's murder. Selek's sudden illness has no external factors.'

'True – we still have our killer on the loose,' Kirk sighed.

'I understand that you do not see the ambassador as a possible suspect anymore.'

'No, I believe him, and I think McCoy would be able to get medical evidence to support it,' he said, leaning against the console. 'Do both the aides have alibis?'

'Affirmative,' Spock said. 'T'Rin was in her quarters, but we have life-sign readings, and she was seen by the security guard who escorted Ambassador Sarek back to his quarters. Sotak has admitted to being involved in a dubious form of gambling featuring losing items of clothing, together with two Bolians and an engineer. I myself was on the bridge.' Then he turned to Kirk and said: 'Captain, Gav was not killed for his political views – he was killed because of his fight with the Vulcan ambassadors.'

'That's what they want us to think, yes,' Kirk answered.

'But it is not due to a grudge at the Vulcans, sir. It is a way to cause disruption among both the ambassadors and the officers.'

'The officers?' he repeated, tantalised by Spock's sudden inspiration.

'There was no way for the killer to know that Sarek would go to see you, an action which provided him with an alibi. If he had not, he would have been a suspect as much as Selek. Sarek is my father, and the implication of Selek being a killer would probably disturb you deeply. Your affection for him is evident.'

'My _affection_?' Kirk repeated. 'Hey, wait a minute...'

'Have I insulted you, sir?' he asked. The human could not tell whether it was his imagination or not, but it seemed like Spock looked somewhat disappointed.

'Nono, not at all,' he said, waving it away. 'What about the ship?'

'It is unlikely that it would be a coincidence,' Spock said. 'But I am unclear as to the motive of the ship.' Kirk looked at the three-dimensional scheme of the ship which was spinning on Spock's screens. 'The Romulans has nothing like it. The Federation and the neutral planets – obviously not. What about the Klingons?'

'It is unlikely that it would be theirs,' Spock said.

'No, it's not really their style, is it?'

'Captain?' Uhura said. Kirk straightened from his slouch and went over to her station. 'I caught the last of a transmission – much like the last one. I put the recorder and the locator on it at once.'

'Well?'

'Source: the intruder ship,' she said and then adjusted her ear-piece. 'Receptor...' Her eyes widened at what she heard. 'Somewhere inside the body of this ship.'

'Someone onboard is in contact with that vessel?' Kirk repeated, feeling rage bite at him, even as it made him feel hope. In that case, he and Spock had been right. 'What does it say?'

'The message is undecipherable,' she said after looking at her console and adjusting the ear-piece a few more times. 'No known, standard reference points apply.'

'It gives us certain information, although only negative,' Spock offered. 'If it is nowhere in the data-banks, it is a completely alien code.'

'Put your scanners on a narrow range, Lieutenant,' Kirk said. 'Spock, keep scanning. Chekov, if the vessel changes speed or course, let me know immediately.’

A chorus of “yessirs” was heard, and as Kirk sank into his chair again, he let himself smile. There were certain privileges a captain of such fine crew must let himself have.

***

When Kirk entered McCoy's office, the doctor was speaking to Nurse Chapel, who was showing him a PADD.

'Have you double-checked this?' he asked.

'Triple-checked.'

'Good girl,' he sighed. 'Get Sarek and Spock down here as soon as possible. Ah, Captain. Hi.'

'Is there a problem?' Kirk asked as the nurse left. He already knew – Bones was particularly easy to read, especially when you knew him – it was rather a question of what the problem was. The doctor exhaled heavily and scratched his neck.

'Several. One of them... well, it's not a problem, really,' he said. 'It's just damned disturbing. You remember that I said I thought Selek seemed familiar?'

'Yes,' Kirk said, dreading where this was going.

'Well, I realised that I thought he looked a bit like Sarek. So, as I had Sarek's blood, I ran some tests. I don't know why they'd lie about being related, but I don't really understand Vulcans.'

'And?'

'Well, they were related all right,' he said. 'But there was something strange going on with Selek's DNA, so just to cross-reference, I ran some tests on his blood and Spock's. This is what it came up with.' He took a PADD and pushed it over the desk. Kirk looked at the DNA spirals displayed on it, and even if he knew what they must say, he asked:

'What does it mean?'

'They're exactly identical,' McCoy said. 'I don't know how, Jim, but... they have the same DNA. It's supposed to be impossible. All I can come up with is that Spock is a clone of this Selek, but...'

'That's not it,' Kirk said abruptly, making the doctor look up. 'The reason why they have the same DNA is that they're the same person. Well, almost. Selek is Spock. But from about 120 years in the future.'  
McCoy stared at him for a few, long moments and then said:

'You're kidding me.'

'No,' he said, somewhat incredulously. 'Nero was from the future – well, so's Spock. Selek, now.'

'Wait a minute,' Bones said, leaning over the desk. 'You're saying that there are... two Spocks?'

'Yes.'

'And how do you know this?'

'Because he told me,' he said. 'He was the one who got me off Delta Vega – he went through the same black hole as Nero, and he marooned him there a well.'

'Does Spock know this?' He nodded. 'Sarek?'

'Yes.'

'This is completely...' McCoy made a big gesture with his hands as if to illustrate how over the top the situation was. 'Who else knows?'

'Scotty and Keenser, but that's about it.'

'It Scotty knows I'm surprised not everyone knows about it,' the doctor said. 'For God's sake, man – time-travel, two of the same person. It doesn't make any sense.'

'I didn't say it would, but it's true,' Kirk said. They looked at one another for a moment, and then McCoy shrugged.

'All right – don't know how I'll cope with two of them, though. The older one is a little more bearable, thankfully.'

'What else is bothering you?' Kirk asked, and just as he was about to answer, the door opened and Spock and Sarek stepped in, accompanied by Nurse Chapel.

'Speak of the devil,' McCoy said and stood up. 'Gentlemen, we have a problem.'

'Has the ambassador's condition deteriorated?' Sarek asked.

'He's steadily getting worse, but that's not it,' McCoy said. 'See, there are a load of risks with moving to a new planet. There's so much you don't know about them – particularly viruses.' Turning to Sarek, he said:

'There's some kind of infection in your blood – harmless, probably you're only a carrier – but it'd kill Selek. We're down to one donor, so we can't operate.'

'With all due respect, Doctor, I was about to come to see you when I was summoned.' Spock stepped forward and offered McCoy a disk. He frowned but accepted it. As soon as he put it into his computer and saw the content, he said:

'No. No, Spock, not in a million years – are you bloody mad? This won't work...'

'The drug has been used with positive outcomes on test-subjects on Rigel V,' Spock pointed out. 'Rigelian physiology is not dissimilar from Vulcan.'

'Not dissimilar isn't good enough – it's still experimental.'

'What is it?' Kirk asked. McCoy handed back the disk and stopped to calm himself before answering.

'It's an experimental drug – a strong stimulant which increases the production and replacement of blood in the body,' he explained. 'It places a tremendous strain on the spleen and liver.'

'I consider the safety factor low, but acceptable,' Spock pointed out.

'It'd kill Selek.'

'I believe you misunderstand my son, Doctor,' Sarek suddenly said, coming forward as well, and then turned to Spock. 'You are planning to use this drug on yourself, are you not?'

'It is the only logical alternative,' Spock answered.

'It could damage you internally – it could kill you,' McCoy intoned. 'I won't sanction it.'

'It is not logical – it would be an emotional act,' Sarek said, his voice perfectly schooled, but his face troubled.

'In that case, Ambassador, you are condemning him to die,' Spock said and left the disk on McCoy's desk. 'I am volunteering myself as a blood donor. I will be at my station until you require me.' Having said that, he turned and left.

'I will return to my quarters if it is permitted,' Sarek said, clasping his hands behind his back. 'I have the work of two men to do.'

'Go with Nurse Chapel first, and she'll be able to get you something for that infection. We don't want to end up with an epidemic on our hands on top of everything else,' McCoy said, waving him away. When he had left, the doctor sighed and went to stand in the door to the ward. Kirk followed him and for some time they stood together and watched Selek, who looked far older than before. Even if he was asleep, he sometimes moved and murmured to himself. 'He's pretty uneasy, however much I dope him,' he said. They were quiet a little longer, and then he continued: 'He's been asking for you, you know. Calling out, even.'

'Really?' Kirk asked. _But it is not me – it is someone almost like me, but not quite. To him, I'm just a familiar reflection._

'I've given him as much morphine as he can take, so he's probably not very coherent, but...' McCoy shrugs.

'Does he say anything?'

'The occasional word in Vulcan – I don't know what they mean.' Kirk wondered if what McCoy had overheard was anything like the echo he had perceived during the meld, some kind of constant mantra within the old man's head.

All this was far too disturbing; he needed distraction.

'I'm going to the gym,' he announced. 'See you in a bit.'

He left sickbay and went to deck five, to pick up his towel and work-out clothes from his quarters. While he stepped out of the turbolift and started walking down the corridor, he pondered Gav's murder, the older Spock's illness, the younger's voluntering as a blood donor, the alien ship and all the delegates they needed to keep calm. Therefore, he did not hear the movement behind him.

The first thing he felt when the other body collided against his own was surprise. He quickly gathered his posture and threw off his attacker, turning to face him. Despite his bared teeth and battle-pose, he recognised the Andorian he had noticed during the reception. Even now there seemed to be something very unusual about him, but the sudden rush of adrenaline blotted out everything else he felt.

Kirk launched himself against the attacker, pressing him against the wall, but he threw him off. Now he realised that the Andorian had a knife – he dodged it once, twice, and then got hold of his wrist and threw him over his shoulder. It almost brought him down with his opponent, but he kept his balance. Still, he did not make it to the intercom before the Andorian was on his feet. Once again they were locked close, and then Kirk managed to get his arm out of his grip and strike him twice with his fist. Instead of trying to get hold of his arm, the Andorian stretched around him and he felt pain sear through his body. Despite feeling his eyes clouding, he reached and struck again, and this time the Andorian fell to the floor.

As he slowly went towards the intercom, leaning against the wall, he felt his back, and his hand came away red. Still, he could only think of one person.

'Bridge – Spock,' he said, pressing the com button. There was a moment of silence, then he heard:

'Spock here.'

'I'm on deck five – near my quarters,' he said. It was an effort to speak. 'I've been attacked by an Andorian. Security team...' His thoughts were growing hazy. 'Security...'

The last this he heard before being swallowed by darkness was Spock's voice, calling out to him.

***

When Kirk's head cleared at last and he felt the world materialising around him, the first thing he perceived was the smell of antiseptic. Then there was a voice:

'Doctor McCoy.' He heard steps, and as he opened his eyes he saw McCoy approaching. Nurse Chapel was standing beside the bed. His head was throbbing, almost worse than his back.

'I'd let to get my hands on the guy with the sledge-hammer,' he muttered.

'The one who stabbed you?' Chapel asked.

'No, the one inside my head,' he said and tried to sit up. Swearing under his breath, he let himself be pushed back down by McCoy.

'Don't move - you've got a punctured lung,' he said gruffly. 'A pretty nasty wound A centimeter or two higher up, and it would have gone through the heart.' Kirk winced at the description.

'Did you catch the Andorian?'

'Yes – he was still out when the security team got there. They left a report on the questioning – he's someone called Thelev, holds some minor position under the ambassador. He's not talking, though, not even under truth-serum.'

'How's Spock?' he asked, his voice not as strong as usual.

'Fine,' McCoy snorted. 'Stubborn and aggravating and with his priorities the completely wrong way around, but fine.'

'I meant the other Spock – Selek.'

'Oh,' the doctor said guiltily. 'Bad – very bad. If only I could operate...'

'Why can't you? Just take Spock up on his offer,' Kirk said.

'He won't do it anymore,' McCoy sighed. 'When you went and got yourself stabbed, he assumed command, and he won't hand it over, with that ship following us and all.' Kirk echoed his sigh, sinking into the pillow. Within a few moments, he had made up his mind.

'Well, I can't damn him for his loyalty,' he said and sat up. Now when he knew what would come, the pain was easier to deal with. 'But I can't let him commit suicide.' As he put his legs over the side of the biobed, McCoy rushed around to prop him up.

'Jim, if you stand up, you might start bleeding again,' he said warningly, but his voice betrayed his worry. 'Things are bad the way they are.'

'I can't let Spock die,' Kirk intoned. 'Either of them.' He looked his friend in the eye, hoping he would understand the things he did not dare to say. McCoy hesitated, and then nodded. 'Bones, can you fix me up, so Spock will think I'm all right?'

'What exactly are you planning, Jim?' he asked, but he was already reaching for a hypo.

'The old Spock will die if you don't operate, and you can't operate without transfusions from the young Spock. I'll persuade him that I'm fit for duty, and he'll agree to go with you,' he explained. 'I'll hand over the bridge to Scotty as soon as you've left and then I'll go to my quarters.'

'Sounds damned risky, but you're right – it's probably the only way,' he sighed and pushed a vial into the hypo. 'I can't give you too many painkillers – if something goes wrong, I want you to be able to feel it so that you can call sickbay. I'll give you something to make you bleed less, though, if it starts again.' Then he stabbed him with the hypo twice in quick succession, but for once Kirk did not complain.

'Can I get my shirt back? Or possibly one not with holes in it. Much as I like showing off my chest...'

'Well, obviously the stuff's already working, if you're talking like that,' McCoy snorted and called Chapel over. 'Replicate a new shirt for the captain, Nurse.'

'But the captain...'

'Nurse, I know what I'm doing,' Kirk said and jerked his head sideways, which still hurt a little too much. Chapel did as she was told, but not without an exasperated sigh.

'Just promise to go to your quarters and _lie down_ at once,' McCoy said when he helped him into the shirt Chapel had brought.

'Sure thing,' Kirk answered and jumped off the biobed, only to almost fall.

'Are you sure this will work?' the doctor asked skeptically.

'It has to,' he said, limping towards the door. 'Come on, Bones. Walk with me.' He fell into his stride and watched him warily with every step. One could see how he was trying to restrain himself not to reach out and steady Kirk whenever he slowed down or almost stumbled. When they finally went into the turbolift and Kirk leaned against the wall, trying not to pant, the doctor said:

'This is a very bad idea.'

'Sure it is – when did I ever come up with an idea which wasn't bad?' Kirk answered and laughed, but winced as he did so. 'Thing is, I make bad ideas work.' He watched the lights of the decks they were passing flicker outside the turbolift, until he felt McCoy's eyes on him. 'What is it?' he asked, hoping he would not make him go back. Bones sighed and looked down, as if it was something he would not want to see his reaction to.

'You must love him beyond what's healthy.' Kirk looked away as well, biting the inside of his cheek. He had never thought anyone would voice it, but there it was, out in the open. Still he could not bear to answer. There was no way he could explain it – he had never been taught how to speak of such things. All he knew was that Bones was probably right. The elder Spock was what he wanted to achieve – the younger was where he wanted to start, shaping him and letting himself be shaped. They both represented the future, but in different kinds of ways. Yes, that was love. For a split second he remembered that McCoy had mentioned that the old Vulcan had said his name. _Perhaps... If I knew..._ He had never been one for cowardice, but for this, he needed to know. For once he could not afford to jump without looking. And if he did not get to do this, he might never get an opportunity to ask him, and if he did not, he would turn into a coward.

The turbolift came to a halt and he patted McCoy on the shoulder.

'Here we go,' he said, and let the doors open.

Spock was the first person he laid eyes on, where he sat in the centre seat, concentrated on the view-screen, the intruder ship still visible like another speck of light among the stars. Not a moment later, the Vulcan had swung around the chair and was looking directly at Kirk, seemingly into him.

'Captain,' he said and jumped to his feet. Smiling at his obvious relief, Kirk approached.

'I'll take over here, Mister Spock. You go with Doctor McCoy to sickbay.' Trying to make his walk as natural and unforced as possible, he went to the captain's chair and sat down. Spock turned to look at him again.

'Captain, are you quite all right?' he pressed, but McCoy cut him off.

'I've certified him physically fit, Spock. Now, as I have a operation to perform and we're both needed, come with me.' Spock hesitated and once again looked to Kirk, who just smiled and jabbed his thumb towards to turbolift doors.

'Get out, Spock,' he said playfully. 'We'll be fine.'

'Very well, sir,' Spock said and walked towards the doors.

'What's the status of the intruder, Mister Chekov?' Kirk asked, knowing it would be suspicious if he did not act normally.

'No change, sir.'

'Any further communications?'

'None, sir,' Uhura said. Kirk heard the sound of the turbolift doors opening and closing, and let himself slouch. Keeping up straight made his entire rib-cage feel like it was about to burst.

'Call Mister Scott to the bridge, Uhura,' he said, his voice strained. For a moment he felt her eyes boring into his skull, as if she knew he had been playing all along, but then she said:

'Yes, sir.' Still, she was almost interrupted by Chekov's excited exclamation:

'Keptin! The intruder ship is moving closer.'

'Belay that order, Lieutenant,' he said, gesturing towards Uhura. 'I'm staying here.'

'Captain, I'm picking up a signal from inside this ship,' she said hurriedly. He could almost hear her hands flying over the console. 'From the brig.'

'The prisoner,' Kirk said to himself. 'Send Security down there at once – have them search the prisoner.' The tense silence which spread stayed thick for several minutes, until the intercom beeped. 'Kirk here,' he said, pressing down the button.

'Security, sir – Lieutenant Josephs,' a voice said over the intercom. 'We had to stun the Andorian – his antenna broke when he fell. He had some kind of transceiver hidden in it...'

'Bring him to the bridge,' he ordered and closed the link. It was not without risks, but he could not move from the bridge now. This was sealed by Chekov speaking up.

'Keptin, the alien ship had changed course and speed – they are moving directly toward us. Warp eight.'

'Red alert – deflectors on. Phasers stand by,' Kirk said, and the pain under his ribs seemed to recede as the adrenaline of combat rushed through him.

The speck of light, which had been growing, flicked over the screen and the _Enterprise_ rocked at the hit.

'Shields holding,' Chekov reported. 'Target moving away... turning. She's coming round again.'

'Fire as she passes, Ensign.' The ship grew visible again and the flash of phaser fire brightened space for a moment.

'A clean miss, sir,' he announced. Had the circumstances not been so dire, Kirk would have laughed at the strange idiom.

'What's her weaponry like?' he asked. Tapping his controls, Chekov said:

'Sensors record standard phasers, sir.' Kirk nodded.

'Good – they might have more speed, but they're not giants,' he said. The ship came around again, and the ship shook with another hit.

'The intercoms are jammed, Captain,' Uhura said. 'All the delegates are asking what's going on.'

'Tell them to take a good guess, but clear that board, Lieutenant,' he ordered. Diplomacy could be dealt with later.

'Shall I really say that?' she asked, perplexed.

'Say whatever you need to say,' Kirk barked, as Chekov announced that the ship was coming around again. While Uhura relayed the captain's message, he missed and they were hit once again.

'Communication from sickbay, sir,' Uhura said, not bothering to hide a sigh. 'Doctor McCoy says please keep the ship still, he is attempting a very complicated operation.'

'Tell him that we're trying,' Kirk answered and gave Chekov orders of firing the photon torpedos. 'How are we doing with damage?'

'Shield four has buckled, sir,' the Russian announced.

'Doctor McCoy on the intercom again, sir. He's requesting sickbay systems put on priority.'

'Do it – relay it to Scotty at once,' he said. 'Get auxiliary power up on number four.'

'Shields firming up, sir,' the ensign reported after a few moments. 'But shield four is still weak.'

There was the sound of the turbolift doors opening, and when Kirk turned around, he saw Lieutenant Josephs and the Andorian approaching. They stopped a little way from the captain's chair and the security guard handed over a tiny mechanism, no larger than a finger-nail, which was blinking furiously.

'How come you're still alive?' Thelev asked. It was the first time he heard his attacker speak; his voice was sickening and somewhat seductive at the same time.

'We've got a damned good doctor aboard,' Kirk answered. 'Talking about good – your friends out there know their stuff. But they'll have to destroy this ship to win.' The prisoner smirked. His charisma was disturbing Kirk even now.

'That was intended from the beginning, Captain,' he answered.

'You're not Andorian,' Kirk observed, trying to remember where he had seen eyes like that before. 'Who are you?' But his contemplation was interrupted by Uhura.

'Damage reports from every deck coming in, Captain.'

'Shield two is gone,' Chekov said.

Kirk looked away from the prisoner, thought and then pressed the intercom button.

'Engineering, this is the Captain. Cut power on port side except for phaser banks now. At my signal, cut starboard power. Kirk out.' Feeling the eyes of everybody on the bridge on him, he turned back to the prisoner. Even as he said it, he knew the answer. 'Who are you?'

'Find your own answers, Captain,' Thelev smirked. 'You haven't got long to live.'

'I'll tell you,' he said, his tone hardening. 'You're a spy, surgically altered to pass as an Andorian. You were planted in the ambassador's party to get onto this ship and use terror and murder to turn us against each other and make this attack easier.'

'Speculation, Captain,' he said, still as composed as before. Ignoring the pain of the stab-wound, Kirk edged forward in the chair and looked him in the face.

'I don't need speculation,' he answered. 'I had a friend at the Academy who had eyes like yours. She had the same smell, too. You can't change the kind of pheromones you give off, even if you can change your skin-colour from green to blue.' His smirk faded, and was gone completely when the captain opened the com-link to engineering again and said: 'Cut power to starboard side, and maintain until further orders.'

The bridge went dark, and silence fell.

'What are you doing?' Thelev asked, something alike to panic in his voice. Kirk smirked back at him.

'Now you speculate.'

'We're start to drift, sir...' Chekov said.

'Just stand by – don't correct it. We're dead as far as she knows.'

'You're baiting her,' the spy said hurriedly. 'You can't possibly...'

'Lock phasers,' Kirk said without paying attention. 'Movements?'

'Range closing,' Chekov answered. Excitement made his voice flutter. 'Seventy seven thousand kilometres... seventy five thousand...'

'Fire.'

There was a sudden flash, and Chekov gave a shout of joy in Russian. Kirk felt elation flooding him.

'Relay to Starfleet that we have a prisoner, but first, open hailing frequency, Lieutenant. If they want to surrender...' But he was interrupted. There was a sudden light, stronger and brighter than that of the phasers. It made him cover his eyes, and when he lowered his hand, the ship was gone. Thelev was smirking again.

'There would be no surrender, Captain,' he explained. 'They had orders to self-destruct. So did I. Slow-working poison, you see.' The glee Kirk had felt turned cold.

'Since when?'

'I administered it when I was captured,' he answered. 'I anticipate another ten minutes of life.'

'Take him to sickbay,' Kirk snapped, and Joseph took a hold of the Andorian's arm. Before he had time to lead him away, the smirk on the spy's face disappeared and his eyes widened.

'I seem to have miscalculated,' he whispered and collapsed. His head bounced when he landed, close to Kirk's feet. He drew them back and gestured to the guard to remove the body. When it was done, he sank back in his chair, trying to ignore the pain in his back. One threat had passed. Now he could only wait for the other to do so.

***

Two hours later, Kirk stepped into McCoy's office and found him filling out a report. He looked up when he entered.

'Are you quite through shaking the ship around?' he asked. Kirk ignored him, but asked:

'How's Spock?' The doctor went to put the PADD away, and continued as if he had not heard.

'I don't mind telling you, you sure make it difficult for a surgeon trying...'

'Bones!' he exclaimed in frustration, at the same time as the door opened and Sarek stepped in.

'Doctor, if I might enquire...' He did not get further before McCoy sighed and said:

'All right, all right, come through, both of you. Jesus Christ, a little peace and quiet is too much to ask for here...' He waved to them to follow him and went into the ward.

'Captain!'

'Jim!'

McCoy's bickering had eased most of Kirk's worry, but the sight of the two Vulcans, both in bed but awake and articulate, made his heart soar. He hurried past Bones and went up between the two beds, smiling at them both, but not knowing what he dared to do. In the end, he simply placed his hand on the young Vulcan's arm and smiled at the old one.

'That pig-headed Vulcan stamina,' McCoy said, almost sounding impressed. 'I couldn't have pulled them through without it.'

'Some doctors have all the luck,' Kirk observed, but did not bother looking at him. His eyes had become locked on his first officer's. Spock was silent for a moment, as if indulging himself, but then addressed him.

'Captain, I think you'll find that the alien ship...'

'It was Orion,' Kirk interrupted. 'We damaged their ship, and they self-destructed to avoid capture. Thelev committed suicide as well. Bones, his body will be brought to your lab. I want an autopsy performed as soon as possible.'

'Curious,' Spock said, and Kirk thought he saw the old Vulcan smile. 'I came to the same conclusion independently. There have been Orion smugglers raiding the Corridan system for many years.'

'And they didn't want the Corridan planets to enter the Federation for that?' Kirk asked.

'I would go so far as to say that they wished to generate mutual suspicion and interplanetary war, and supply illegally mined Corridan dilithium to both sides.'

'Nice attempt at breaking up the Federation,' the captain said. 'When did you realise?'

'About ten minutes after I started operating,' McCoy snorted. 'Wanted to get up and find you...' Spock looked away, as if embarrassed.

'Well, I'm flattered,' Kirk said, and Spock's pale cheeks flushed green.  
As if to break the tension, Sarek stepped forth and looking from one Vulcan to the other, said:

'I am... pleased that the procedure was successful. We will be able to undertake the diplomatic mission as planned.'

'Possibly a good time to make a truce, don't you think?' Kirk said. At Sarek's perplexed look, he explained: 'I meant, you could start acting like your son's dad again. It might be nice.'

'I do not see how that is relevant,' Sarek admitted, and Selek caught Kirk's eye.

'All in good time,' he said quietly. 'Give him another twenty-five years.' He smiled at him, but suddenly the pain of the wound he had been ignoring for so long suddenly shot through him and almost made him lose balance. He felt both Spocks grabbing him, and then heard McCoy approaching. The doctor took him in a firm grip and led him to a bed.

'Nono, I'm all right,' he protested as McCoy made him lie down.

'If you keep arguing with your kindly family doctor, you're going to be stuck in here for the next ten days,' Bones said decisively. 'If you cooperate, you'll be out in two.' Kirk sighed with exasperation and laid back, only somewhat thankful. Then he realised that Sarek was still watching him, as if he were some strange exhibit.

'I find the captain's actions of endangering his own well-being in this way highly illogical,' he voiced, seemingly addressing the other Vulcans.

'Captain Kirk is a very illogical man,' the younger Spock offered.

'Indeed,' his father said, frowning, and then turned to the older Spock. 'Was he as illogical in your timeline?'

'Yes, frequently,' he answered, looking amused and touched the locket around his neck.

'But...' Sarek said and paused. 'Why did you marry him?'

Spock smiled and admitted:

'It seemed logical at the time.'


End file.
